


Restraint

by Bookkbaby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Demon Dean Winchester, M/M, Other: See Story Notes, discussion of consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 07:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1680239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookkbaby/pseuds/Bookkbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every fantasy of Cas he’d ever entertained in the privacy of his own head is being paraded in front of his mind’s eye, except different.</p><p>Now, everything is dark and tainted and hungry. Now, there’s a part of Dean that cares less about what Cas wants and more about taking pleasure wherever he pleases.</p><p>It's terrifying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restraint

**Author's Note:**

> *****************WARNING: this fic contains sexual assault mentions and deals with invasive thoughts pertaining to sexual assault and/or rape ***************************

The thoughts in his head are  _sickening_.

Dean feels the bile creep up his throat, skin crawling with the sensation of  _wrongwrongwrong_ , but the images will not leave him be. Every fantasy of Cas he’d ever entertained in the privacy of his own head is being paraded in front of his mind’s eye, except different.

Now, everything is dark and tainted and  _hungry_. Now, there’s a part of Dean that cares less about what Cas wants and more about taking pleasure wherever he pleases.

It’s terrifying.

He still wants to kiss Cas, as he always has, except now part of him doesn’t care if he has to force Cas’s jaw open in order to taste him. He still wants to take Cas to bed, as he’s always dreamed, except now part of him doesn’t care if he has to pin Cas down to do it.

His stomach is roiling with disgust and the demon’s lust, the parts of him that are still himself screaming at him how wrong his thoughts are while the rest of him just  _wants_.

He loathes himself utterly. Every tender thought and feeling seems tainted now, defiled by imaginings not his own but borrowed from his heart and twisted beyond recognition. His heart aches, his body lusts, and he clings to morality with every scrap of strength he has left, because he  _will not_.

He won’t do that to Cas.

There’s a knock at his bedroom door and he groans, the heat in his blood spiking and his heart freezing in sudden fear.

"Dean?" It’s Cas’s voice.

 

"Go away," Dean snarls. He knows his eyes are black, an intimidation tactic that’s wasted on the door. It’s wasted on Castiel too, when Cas opens the door and steps carefully over the line of salt meant to protect everyone.

Protect everyone from  _Dean_ , and the thought makes Dean’s stomach lurch again, even though it was he who had insisted on it.

"What is it?" Dean asks, digging his fingernails deeply into the meat of his palm to keep from reacting as Cas steps closer to where Dean sits on his bed.

Cas appears not to notice Dean’s turmoil and sits down next to him, half-turned to face him.

The demon immediately clamors for Dean to close the last bit of space between them. It would be so easy to reach out and  _take_ , and Dean clenches his fist so tightly he feels his short nails break skin. He grits his teeth and moves away from Cas under the pretense of shifting to face him.

He  _won’t_.

"Sam and I are still researching the Mark," Cas says. "He left this morning to pick up a few books from the Campbell family library. He thinks one of them might have the information we need."

There’s a ringing in Dean’s ears, a rush of blood as his heart goes still in his chest.

"Wait, Sammy’s  _gone_?” Dean demands, shoving himself up off the bed and stalking away from Cas as far as the room will allow. He doesn’t look at Cas, can’t stand to see the angel on his bed, because the demon in him is _laughing_ , now.

He and Cas are alone in the bunker. Completely, terribly,  _wonderfully_  alone.

"It’s only for a few days, Dean."

For  _days_.

Shit.

"Get out," Dean growls. He doesn’t turn to face Cas. He can’t, because he is not strong. He wasn’t strong enough to save his mother, or protect Sam, or stop the Apocalypse, and he can’t bear to add this to his long list of failures. He’s failed Cas in so many ways already, he can’t let  _this_  be one of them.

He hears Cas get up, but the footsteps, when they come, are moving  _c_ _loser_.

"Dean?" Cas is definitely closer now and Dean tenses. "What’s the matter?"

"I said ‘out’!" Dean snarls, turning around, eyes flashing black. He knows Cas has enough mojo to see Dean’s true face, but he figures the extra reminder of what he is can’t hurt.

Cas is frowning, though not frightened, and not leaving. He reaches out to touch Dean and Dean jerks back as though Cas’s hand was a red-hot poker. Cas pauses and then withdraws his hand, an unhappy expression on his face.

"I will not hurt you," he says, like that had been anywhere on Dean’s list of concerns. The very idea is so ridiculous that Dean snorts a laugh before he can help it.

"It’s not  _me_  I’m worried about,” he says. Cas’s expression clears and he steps closer, ignoring the warning growl Dean makes.

"You won’t hurt me," Cas says confidently. He seems far more certain of that than he ought, and Dean can’t help but think that if Cas knew the thoughts circling Dean’s head right now, he’d be out the door and doubling-up on all the anti-demon protections just outside. Perhaps he should.

"How do you know?" Dean asks. Cas takes another step closer, now within arm’s reach, and Dean presses himself against the wall. Cas is still close, far too close, and Dean  _wants_.

Dean closes his eyes and tries not to think.

"Because you are a good man."

Dean laughs at that, broken and humorless. If he was ever good, he certainly isn’t now. Furthest thing from, if he’s being brutally honest, and he’s not a ‘man’ anymore. He just wears the shape of one.

Cas reaches out and lays a comforting hand on Dean’s shoulder. The thin thread of control Dean had been maintaining snaps with an almost audible  _crack_  as Dean seizes Cas’s wrist and spins, shoving Cas up against the wall and pinning him in place. Their bodies are pressed together from hips to knees and Dean feels his stomach churn with sick lust and self-hatred.

It would be  _so easy_ , the demon tempts him. Cas is staring up at Dean, confused, pink lips parted, and Dean could just lean in and  _take_.

“ _Get out_ ,” Dean growls as fiercely as he can, hoping that  _this time_ , Cas takes the hint. He shoves himself away from Cas, practically shaking at his own momentary loss of control.

He’d almost… he’d  _almost_. His throat feels tight, but demons can’t cry.

He wipes at his eyes anyway, a habit left over from a lifetime of being able to shed tears.

"Dean?"

"I told you to leave," Dean says. He swallows heavily. "Please, Cas. Just go."

Instead, the stubborn bastard moves closer once more. Dean tenses, but there’s nowhere in the room for him to run. There’s nowhere he can go that Cas can not follow.

"I told you," Cas says, voice low and firm. "You are a good man, Dean Winchester. You will not hurt me."

"You don’t know that," Dean snaps.

"I do," Cas insists. He’s close now, so gloriously close that Dean can faintly feel the heat of his body.

"How?" he demands. He holds perfectly still. Cas smiles.

"Because you stopped yourself," Cas says simply. "Because you keep warning me. Because you don’t want to hurt me." His expression grows serious. "You’re dealing with a powerful demonic influence, Dean. That you’re not lost to us completely is proof of how good you are."

"I’m not," Dean protests. His breath shudders in his lungs. He feels weak and lost; the fact that he has to _struggle_  not to act on his depraved thoughts is proof enough that he is not good.

"You are," Cas says softly. "I have faith in you, Dean."

"You wouldn’t if you could see what I’m thinking," Dean says. He needs to warn Cas, needs to make him understand that Dean is  _dangerous_  like this and should not be trusted. Cas can’t  _be_  open and trusting like he is right now because it isn’t safe. Dean can’t even trust himself.

Cas tilts his head.

"What are you thinking?"

Dean should have seen that coming.

He opens his mouth, but the words catch in a gross lump in his throat. He can’t bring himself to say it. The thoughts sicken him enough inside his own head, to put words to them and speak would make them more real, somehow.

But he needs Cas to understand the danger.

"I want you," he says. How many times had he imagined confessing this very thing to Cas? The words roll more easily off his tongue now than they ever did in his imagination, because now it’s not a confession of desire. Now, it’s an admission of guilt, a warning of danger, and Dean’s privacy and emotions are nothing compared to his disgust with himself right now. "I want you, but I- part of me doesn’t care if-" He breathes in and out slowly. He closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to see the disgust and horror on Cas’s face when he parses Dean’s meaning. "Part of me doesn’t give a damn what you want, or if you want. It just wants to take."

He feels no better for having warned Cas. His throat is tight again.

Cas is quiet for several seconds. Each moment feels like an eternity to Dean.

Then, suddenly, there’s a gentle touch to his cheek. Cas’s hand cups his jaw so sweetly and Dean  _shudders_. He opens his eyes, knowing they’ve gone black again, and stares hopelessly at Cas.

"What are you doing?" he asks, voice shaking. Cas’s stare is intent.

"I would like to kiss you," Cas says. Dean’s heart leaps into his throat, excitement and fear warring in his chest.

"Cas-" he starts, but his voice chokes off. He wants this, has wanted this, but at the same time he’s terrified of the new parts of himself that urge him to  _taketaketake_. “It’s not safe-“

"Have faith, Dean," Cas says softly. "I trust you."

Cas leans in. Dean can’t bring himself to pull back, not when there is no part of him that does not want this. On the contrary, this right here is everything Dean has dreamed of, and he can’t deny himself.

Their lips meet. Cas tilts Dean’s head gently, giving their mouths a better angle to slide against one another. The moment is perfect, glorious, and Dean struggles not to deepen the kiss.

Cas does it for him. Cas’s lips part, his tongue coming out to brush questioningly against the seam of Dean’s lips, and Dean opens for Cas with a small, broken sound. He debates what to do with his hands, then rests them on Cas’s shoulders and squeezes.

Dean knows he’s tense, and knows Cas must feel it; Dean’s practically vibrating with the force he has to exercise to restrain himself. He wants, and it would take so little effort to rend the clothing Cas wears into shreds and back him up to a wall, or turn and pin him to the bed, but Dean doesn’t. He won’t.

The kiss breaks and Cas smiles up at Dean. His lips are wet and inviting.

"See?" Cas says. He leans in again, but this time he just presses his forehead to Dean’s. Their breath mingles. "You didn’t hurt me."

"But…" Dean says, then stops. He has no argument. He breathes, enjoying the closeness.

"We’ll get you through this, Dean," Cas says softly. "We’ll find a way to turn you human again."

"What if we can’t?" Dean asks, voice small. What if he’s stuck like this forever? What if he has to spend every moment around Cas constantly watching himself, constantly on guard against impulses not his own?

"We will," Cas says firmly.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Also on tumblr at bookkbaby.tumblr.com


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